


Drop

by ContraryIzybel



Category: Pacific Rim (2013)
Genre: Fluff, M/M, Sub Drop, mentions of BDSM
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-07-29
Updated: 2013-07-29
Packaged: 2017-12-21 17:35:03
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,402
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/902984
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ContraryIzybel/pseuds/ContraryIzybel
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The first few days left Newt walking on air. But after a while he'd end up falling back to Earth.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Drop

**Author's Note:**

> A million thanks to the author of this prompt from the Pacific Rim Kink Meme for pulling me out of my writing slump. The prompt was for Newt going through sub drop and Hannibal comforting him like a good dom. Prompt located here: http://pacificrimkink.livejournal.com/350.html?thread=931678#t931678
> 
> **Sub drop:** The temporary depression experienced by submissives/masochists after intense BDSM play. (Taken from Urban Dictionary) 
> 
> Also, I am using second hand knowledge about what a sub goes through during this, all from various sub websites. If anyone would like to correct me or clarify something please let me know.

Somewhere in the back, far far back, of his mind Newt knew he was being dramatic but damn if it didn’t feel like every inch of his skin was burning. A low warm burn that made him think of roasting marshmallows on the gas stove of his first apartment and of summer days in the safety of the Midwest just after hearing the news that the Kaiju hadn’t made it past California. It wasn’t just his skin. His smile threatened to crack, the wrinkles at the edge of his eyes were deeper than ever, and he was willing to bet if he jumped off his balcony he’d just float away. 

Not that bad for a lazy Sunday. 

It helped that his ass still throbbed from the loving care it had been subjected to the night before. He had inspected his body in the full length mirror that the apartment’s former owner had left, of course waiting to do so after Hannibal ruffled his hair and promised to see him sometime that week for lunch before leaving to the call of business. Busy man after all. But with him gone Newt had been free to marvel at his work, the lash marks still vivid and red across the back of his thighs. The carefully laid lines were only visible on the patches of skin he hadn’t gotten around to tattooing and given Hannibal’s enjoyment of marking those areas with his own hands, or sometimes tools, Newt was rethinking his plans for adding more ink there. He could fit Otachi’s likeness somewhere else. Maybe his foot. It could be a metaphor. 

Actually, working on a new design would be a great way to spend his Sunday. He had already cleaned his apartment, as best he ever cleaned anything. He had cooked breakfast and had even rushed to the store to pick up the ingredients for lunch. Really there was nothing else to do but sketch and lounge about. 

Well, he could always call Hermann but since he’d returned to England he’d started insisting Newt restrict communication to e-mail or text. It wasn’t Newt’s fault he didn’t have a head for time differences. 

By the time Newt settled into bed, which still carried the smell of Hannibal’s cologne and no he wasn’t going to tell him that because it would be a creepy thing to say, he had finished three sketches for his newest tattoo and had cooked a full roast if only to prove he could. 

Certainly not bad for a lazy Sunday. 

But the easy burn faded and in its place came an emptiness he couldn’t quite describe. When he finally did call Hermann, after checking to make sure it wasn’t going to be three am like the last time, he compared the sensation to the week after the breach closed. After all the parties when all he did was sleep and eat and once even cry when Hermann asked him to clean up the pieces of Kaiju lung he left on the lab’s floor. 

“Withdrawal of some sort, I imagine.” Hermann said in that tone of voice that implied Newt was missing something very obvious and he wasn’t going to say what it was or else Newt wouldn’t learn anything. Not for the first time Newt pitied the students Hermann was going to begin teaching. After five minutes of Newt huffing dramatically he just sighed. “Have you talked to your…well I suppose boyfriend is the proper word for it now.” 

“Ugh, don’t say that dude. Makes me feel like I’m back in school. Am I suppose to wear his letterman jacket so the rest of the varsity team knows I’m off limits?” Newt made sure to raise his voice and flutter his eyelashes, figuring Hermann would know him well enough to get a mental picture of him even continents apart. 

“Frankly I’m surprised he hasn’t done something similar. Fine, fine, your partner. Would that be better?” 

Newt brightened a little. “How about my co-pilot. We could kick tons of Kaiju ass together. What would our Jaeger be called?” 

“Bloody idiots, the both of you.” 

“That’s the worst name ever.” Newt whined before realizing either the call had dropped or, more likely, Hermann had grown tired of him and had hung up. 

He liked to imagine the call was dropped. Getting good service in Hong Kong was still a hit or a miss. 

When he stumbled off the train after work the next day he figured he would have to just take some time off of work to deal with the emptiness and the dull ache which he still couldn’t describe properly. It was only getting worse. Nothing felt right, like the whole world was tilting to one side. 

Or maybe that was just him as he was literally tilting to one side, the side of his right foot planted against the ground while the left floated in the air. But the valiant efforts of his right foot wasn’t what kept him from being knocked over due to sudden impact with a wall’s worth of chest. That would be the kind, and huge, hand holding him up by his collar. 

“Jeez kid. Thought you learned your lesson about keeping your head out of the clouds.” 

“Hannibal.” He greeted, still struggling to keep from falling over. A glance behind the lumbering form of his not-boyfriend-because-he-hated-that-word revealed a distinct lack of menacing body guards. Sweet. No body guards meant a cozy night in his apartment. Maybe he could even talk Hannibal into watching some of his mecha anime. 

“C’mon, let’s go. I’m sure at some point I promised to make you dinner. I’m finally keeping my promise.” 

“Does this mean you’ll also keep that promise of letting me study the kidney you harvested from Leatherback?” Newt asked, trying to keep from sounding like a desperate puppy. Not that he knew any puppy who was interested in the biology of horrifying deep sea monsters. 

That’d just be weird. 

Hannibal had obviously been planning ahead, at least if the pile of groceries on Newt’s counter was any indication. High priced groceries at that. 

“Did you break into my apartment to give me food? Is that bread? Oh my god we’ve got to make garlic bread.” 

“Don’t piss yourself over it.” Hannibal grumbled as he began unpacking the food. “How are you feeling?” 

Newt startled from where he was poking through a bag filled with just bars of chocolate. “Huh?” 

“Your annoying friend called me. Something about you going through withdrawal or some nonsense and how he didn’t need to know about your sex life just because I was a bad boyfriend.” 

“Man, I hate that word.” 

“Makes you think of high school and making out in your dad’s car.” 

“Exactly!” 

The taller man allowed himself a chuckle before removing his sunglasses. He wore them so often, sometimes even while they were having sex, it took Newt a moment to drag his eyes away from the sight. Of course as soon as he realized what he was doing he forced himself to stare at the pile of chocolate that could last him months even at his most gluttonous. In his attempt at forcing down his curiosity he almost missed Hannibal’s statement. “Sub-what now?” 

“Sub drop. When the endorphins drop after a session leaving you feeling either depressed or tired or a whole bunch of different things. That withdrawal thing your idiot friend was babbling about. For the record, I appreciate that you have friends who care about you but don’t ever let that guy call me again.” 

He didn’t mean to, he really didn’t, but he started laughing. “Aw man I can’t begin to imagine how hilarious that conversation must have been.” 

Hannibal didn’t sigh dramatically, if only because that wasn’t something Newt could imagine him doing, but he did huff before pulling Newt into an awkward one armed hug. “Look, you ever feel down after we’re together tell me before your weird friend.” 

Trapped against Hannibal’s chest, and getting practically drunk on the smell of his cologne, Newt figured he could handle a little loving care from the city’s most notorious crime lord. “I promise. Will you make me garlic noodles?” 

“Yeah whatever.” He huffed and gruffed but somehow managed to cook the whole meal with one arm wrapped around Newt’s neck. 

And even if he burnt half the noodles it was still pretty damn good.


End file.
